5 months 3 days 14 hours 37 minutes and 12 seconds

I've stopped moving in my dreams. I still sometimes dream of outside, somehow. I think... I think it might be the only reason I remember outside exists. I don't think I sleep very often, its hard to tell. The pain keeps me awake, I know that much, and I don't move much aside from the involuntary twitches and shudders that wrack my pained flesh almost constantly now. I think I have nerve damage, I definitely have muscle atrophy at this point. There's no way the human body can survive 5 months like this. 5 months 3 days 14 hours 37 minutes and 12 seconds to be precise.

5 months 3 days 14 hours 37 minutes and 13 seconds

5 months 3 days 14 hours 37 minutes and 14 seconds

5 months 3 days 14 hours 37 minutes and 15 seconds

I hate this damn clock. I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it. It makes every second of this hell so much longer and it's so bright, not a dark red or soothing blue like a regular clock but bright white LEDs making sure I can't ignore it ever, bright enough I can just barely see my skin get sicker the longer I sit here counting away the seconds of this hell, every single second accounted for and only when I'm awake too! I didn't even know at first, but it does! It stops when I sleep and starts when I wake up. I thought I wasn't sleeping at all until I started dreaming again, horrible nightmares where at least I could move and run and and and...

Oh thats right, thats what I was talking about. I don't move in my dreams anymore. I lie there in the same awful crumpled up position I live my entire life in, every fucking moment of my entire fucking life, every single moment of the last 5 months 3 days 14 hours 37 minutes and 43 seconds it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts I can't breathe I CAN'T BREATHE I NEed to calm down I need to calm... it just hurts so much, my neck, my back, my legs, all folded as compactly as possible in this awful metal box this this tomb this... oh God... I dont want to die in here please I don't want to die in this coffin please please let me out you said you would, you grabbed me off the street and beat me and tore my clothes off and oh God I'm sorry I hit you I'm sorry I fought back, I didn't want you to hurt me anymore, but you said! You said you'd come back when you had a use for me, you said it when you cuffed my ankles togther, then locked my wrists to my ankles, when you shoved my legs through that chunk of metal and forced my pelvis into it as the tubes violated my holes and the needles pierced my flesh while I screamed and cried and begged. Then you shoved my into that box and drilled the lid shut. I was so scared, about where you were taking me, about what you meant by a use for me... please... I didn't mean to fight I was so scared...

I was talking about dreams though, and how I dont move in then anymore, can't move in them anymore, and how sometimes its a nice dream, I sit in a field I feel the wind, or sometimes I sit in my bed in my old apartment and am safe, but usually... usually I get nightmares. Sometimes I'm being buried alive or eaten by rats and can't move or I'm surrounded by awful rotting meat or some awful beast is stalking me but I can't move from this terrible position as it gets closer and closer until the pain of its teeth meets the pain of the spikes in my body. The box isn't spiked all over, but where they are they hurt almost constantly. There are spikes along my biceps and shoulders, under my ass, pressed up against my lower back, and under my feet and hands, and an awful spiked bar between my calves and thighs where they're pressed together that hurts the most. Any movement, any at all makes them hurt and no matter how still I try to be, my aching body just cant stop shuddering and twitching and shaking and it never stops. I bleed, I hurt, I scab, and then the spikes rip the scabs open and over and over again all day every day for 5 months 3 days 14 hours 37 minutes and 56 seconds

5 months 3 days 14 hours 37 minutes and 57 seconds

5 months 3 days 14 hours 37 minutes and 58 seconds

God please I would do anything to shut off that awful clock. I think... I think its the reason I talk to myself like this. I dont think it will let me stop thinking, I can't just let my mind stop, every time I try to let it go quiet the endless countdown forces itself on my thoughts until I'm counting every. single. fucking. second. of this hell, it hurts too much for my mind to not do anything it can to distract me from the endless march of time even as my thoughts get more and more manic and fragmented and I just want to shut up and stop talking to myself because the only thing I can talk about is how much this hurts and how awful this hell is and... and how theres nothing else, theres nothing else in my life but this pain and misery and the awful awful despair of watching every single second of it added to the tally. I feel sick I feel so sick watching those seconds tick past each one so agonizingly slowly and there have been so many. I feel the bile in my belly churning as I count the seconds, my stomach feels so sick all the time and my body feels so sick all the time and it reeks in here so bad and sometimes I don't notice it but sometimes I can't ignore it and I cant help thinking that its me its me I'm vile I'm rotting I'm filth locked in a box festering, the box would be clean without me in it and I get so sick the bile comes up and I have to taste it and I let it fall from my mouth onto my disgusting body and the smell gets worse and it burns and hurts and my throat and nose and mouth and teeth burn and theres no water please god I would kill for water I would die for water please please...

Dreams though... that's what I was talking about... I even dream about the box now, more and more now my dreams are just the box, of thousands of roaches filling it all crawling and biting me, or the walls slowly growing closer and crushing me, or the box itself falling down a pit and I cant see anything but I can feel it happening, or the worst of all just the box, nothing different just being in the box and only knowing its a dream when I wake up a realize the numbers on the clock didn't make sense. It's happening more and more too, seems like I can't even escape in my nightmares anymore, it never ends, awake or asleep it never ends, the cold, the hunger, the pain, I'm so hungry I'm always so sick and cold and hungry, the needles in this metal block they've encased my torso in are feeding me with IVs all the time but my stomach is always empty and it never stops begging for food. I can't even think about eating anymore without getting intensely nauseous but the hunger doesn't go away. It feels like I'm wasting away, always getting worse and worse, sicker and sicker, but I don't die, sometimes... sometimes I'm scared that I can't.

I know, I know its crazy, I know I will die, but... I've been here so long. So so long. The me locked in here that first hour could never comprehend, the me after the first week could never comprehend, even the me after the first month passed could never comprehend just how long I've been in this box, unmoving, suffering, still here. It's so much pain... so so much pain... I feel it all and theres nothing to shut it out... my head throbs, my stomach is nauseous, my teeth ache from the acid whittling away at them with no water to wash it away and the rest of my mouth is dry and caked in the acrid flavors of bile and dried saliva. My skin, covered in the accumulated filth of sweat and dead skin and bile, burns and itches so badly, the spikes hurt so bad they hurt hurt HURT so bad but sometimes I beg them to to move to just scratch the itch, they can hurt me if they want just scratch it... but the spikes hurt though, they hurt so much, so much I try to use them to forget the other pain, to drown it out but they're so constant and there's no way to make them stop and then the other pain creeps back and the spikes just still hurt, pressed into me so tight and painful... It's so tight in here so so tight everything is always pressing on me, crushing me, hurting me and in the one place it's not in the one place there would be room to move just a little he bound me with chains, my wrists hurt my ankles hurt my fingers are cold and ache, pressed up against the spikes under my feet, spikes that mean the tiny little bit I can move just causes more pain more hurt. My muscles, what little is left, cramp and spasm and never find relief, my back and neck never stop aching from holding this position and I don't know when they'll stop please stop I want it to stop its been so long they cry for relief that just never ever comes I want it so bad just one thing anything one little scrap of relief for any of this pain would mean more than the world to me here but even that will never ever come... And the whole time, through all this pain, it's been there, it's always there, I have to think about it, I don't want to but it makes me, the thing thats worse than any nightmare, any pain, anything else in my brain or body or nightmares

There's a years section.

I try not to think about it, I try so hard not to think about it but how can I not when its right there forcing me to look at it every second of my awful life. There is a double digit years section next to the one for months reading zero-zero. This box, its telling me, forcing me to listen every single day that when it was built it was designed to keep me here for DECADES. I'm... I'm just at the beginning... oh god its true. I know its true. Deep down no matter what I do or think or say, I know that I am only at the beginning of my life in this box.

5 months 3 days 14 hours 38 minutes and 40 seconds. Barely a drop in the ocean of time this box was built for. And every day the pain gets worse. Every day my body feels sicker. Every day I beg and pleade and cry and scream for my brain to just shut up, let my thoughts just die quietly before they have to experience even the first year of what could be, WILL be, decades. But they won't, thry won't stop, my mind is trapped just like the rest of my body and when I sleep my dreams keep me trapped in this never ending nightmare.

It never ends. It never gets better. I will never leave.